Collision Construction
by Cairistona
Summary: Prowl has only one friend at Golden Elite Iacon University, and he thinks that having just one friend there is enough. When two mechs (Sunstreaker and Sideswipe) ram into him during lunch break, however, an incident follows that leads him to change his mind and forge a new friendship.


Hello! I was mulling over ideas for my main story (_My Family, My Home_), doing a little brainstorming for a later scene where Prowl, Auri, Prax, and the twins are hanging out and just chilling, and I suddenly thought, "How did Prowl first meet the twins?" I ended up writing this. I might do a second chapter; I'm not sure yet. Anyway, it was fun. It was different to write something set on pre-war Cybertron, with Jazz in full swing, with Prowl super young and not yet traumatized by the war, and with the twins (especially Sideswipe) so young, too. I hope you all will enjoy it! X) –As always, no slash.

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><p>"Collision Construction"<p>

Classes let out for the lunch hour at Golden Elite Iacon University, one of Cybertron's most prestigious universities, and the halls filled with young bots and the accompanying sounds of their pedes and voices.

Prowl exited classroom E32 last of all the students and looked up the hallway for Jazz. They had been inseparable since sparkling-hood, and Jazz was his only friend in the university. Jazz was in the class that had just let out –Jazz naturally sat next to Prowl- but Prowl had lingered to ask the professor a question, and Jazz hadn't waited.

"There ya are!" Jazz's voice said, and Prowl turned to see the silver mech hurrying toward him, dodging the wing of an Aerialbot in his haste. "Ya coulda tol' me ya were gonna hang back," Jazz rebuked mildly, coming alongside Prowl. "I woulda waited."

"M'pologies for na shouting," Prowl replied with a mischievous smile. "I did tell you, but na verra loudly, an' you were preoccupied flirting wi' the green femme to your right, so I did na want to interrupt."

"Thoughtful of ya," Jazz said, optics twinkling. They headed down the hallway together, the sunlight filtering through great arched windows and gleaming on their armor.

"Did you make any impression on the 'forementioned femme?" Prowl asked, knowing Jazz loved femmes.

"Maybe," Jazz said with a smile. "She _might_ come t' our study group."

Prowl cocked an optic-ridge. "We do na have a study group."

"It was a hypothetical study group."

Prowl shook his helm in amused disbelief. "Jazz."

"No harm in askin' her," Jazz responded cheerfully, but then his manner turned serious as he looked at his friend. "Ya could use a study group f' socializing, though. It's our secon' week a' class now, an' ya still ain't got any friends 'sides me."

Prowl hesitated slightly then shifted a wing. "I make friends either instantly or slowly. You know. It has na been instant wi' anybody so far."

"I'm jus' tryin' to help," Jazz said gently. "This whole comin' t' the finest an' bes' university on Cybertron thing is a bit overwhelmin' f' me, an' I know ya's lots more sensitive t' changes than I am. I feel bad 'bout only havin' one class wi' ya. I want y' to have friends in ya other classes."

"I appreciate that, Jazz. I truly do. I just need to take things slowly right now, though. I'm still getting used to the setting an' my schedule an' the workload. An'… really, I do na need any other friends here besides you."

"Aw, don' say stuff like that; ya make me feel awful 'bout what I gotta say next," Jazz said, shoulders slumping a bit.

"What is it?" Prowl looked concerned.

"I'm skippin' out on lunch wi' ya," Jazz said unhappily.

Prowl twitched a wing as a bot brushed past him. "Why?"

"My tech professor got absurd office hours, an' lunch time was the only time _not_ filled up wi' 'ppointments. An' I got t' talk wi' him about the class I missed."

Prowl frowned with concern. "The class that you missed because it was the first day an' you couldna find the room?"

"Yeah. That one. 'Parently he wants t' speak wi' me face-t'-face 'bout it." Jazz sighed as stopped in the vast hall where a number of hallways intersected. "Well. Here goes. Ya have a good time at lunch. An' hopef'ly my meeting wi' this professor will go well."

"Hopefully, indeed," Prowl said, concern for Jazz etching his face. "Do you know where his office is?"

"I scouted it out 'fore class." Jazz grinned. "I ain't gonna be caught not knowin' where a room is again."

Prowl chuckled. "That's my Jazzy," he said, rubbing the silver mech's shoulder. "Take care now."

"Will do," Jazz said easily, taking his leave.

Prowl sighed, watching Jazz's back for a moment, and then he headed toward the Energon-hall. The Energon-hall was an architectural masterpiece, one which Prowl would have ordinarily enjoyed for its workmanship, but without Jazz at his side, he found himself dreading a solitary meal in a crowd. He felt deeply homesick and strongly considered returning to the dormitory quarters that he shared with Jazz, but he knew that Jazz would be reproachful over such anti-social behavior.

Entering the magnificent hall, Prowl put himself in line. As he waited, he reflected on that fact that he couldn't even talk to his special femme-friend over intercom during lunch. She was still living in Praxus, and Iacon was just far enough away from Praxus that there was a time shift between the two cities; she would be in class during his lunch break, and all non-emergency intercoms were blocked for all students in classrooms during class hours.

He got an Energon cube and picked up a dish of alloy crunchies to go with it. Then he headed through the network of tables with the intent of sitting at one of the few unoccupied tables at the end of the hall. Jazz would have worked on making him sit in the crowd and dabble at chit-chat. Chit-chat made him edgy, though. And he wasn't about to try it alone. He would just sit and be homesick. He was very happy about being at the university of his choice, and the opportunities were elating, but he still felt homesick when Jazz wasn't with him.

…

The twins were angry.

They were enrolled at one of Cybertron's most prestigious universities. And they were angry. Very angry, hurting, and alone. And scared. And frustrated. But, mostly angry.

They'd survived being shuffled around countless foster homes and shelters, and they'd fought their way through youngling school and halfway through pre-university school. Then, some random bot had seen some of Sunny's artwork at the scrap market and thought he should be their benefactor because he was rich and liked artwork.

"What a lot of pretendgious fraggin' slaggers," Sunny muttered, standing in line in the exquisitely designed Energon-hall of Golden Elite Iacon University. It was like waiting in line for handouts, only with rich bots snubbing them instead of bullies slapping them, the windows were pretty, and the Energon tasted better.

"Yeah," Sides agreed darkly. Everyone was rich and elite at this place, and the twins were the scum of the street, scraped up and dumped in. They didn't fit, and it was stressful. Stress made him feel mad.

"Shoulda said _no_," Sunny murmured for about the thirty-ninth time. And he would have said 'no' most haughtily, but Sides had been lying in fetal position back in their quarters and moaning with fever. Sunny had said 'yes' with the condition that his brother receive medical treatment and be allowed to attend the university with him. The rich mech had hesitated at the prospect of sending two mechs to the university when only one of them showed potential, but Sunny had offered to paint for him. And given him his latest masterpiece.

"It's okay," Sides told his brother. "They gave you real nice art stuffs, anyways. And this is good armor." He tapped Sunny's arm gently. Their benefactor had provided well for them.

But, that still didn't make them fit in.

"I just _really_ want to hurt somebody right now," Sunny muttered. His mood had been festering with his pride. He felt that he should have found some way to look after Sides other than by binding himself in some bargain with a rich slagger. He hated feeling helpless and out of options.

"Yeah," Sides murmured. He knew it wasn't nice to hit other bots, but he always felt less trapped once he did. He would have gladly punched someone in order to feel less trapped in this alien environment.

Sunny got a cube of Energon and passed it to Sides before taking one for himself.

"Hey," he said as they moved away from the Energon dispensers. "There's that Praxian from Art History class. The smart-aft who had all the right answers of the first day quiz. We could run into his wings and make it look like an accident. That would hurt him a bit. Make him yell in discomfort. And then we apologize real nice and get away with it."

Sides perked up. "Okay, Sunny. Let's do that."

It never occurred to them that their target would do more than yell.

…

Prowl, lost in thought, realized a moment too late that two mechs had moved into his path.

The red mech slammed his shoulder into Prowl's his right wing, knocking his left wing harshly into the golden mech's shoulder. The pain was immediate and incensing; Prowl knew an intentional bump when he felt it, and he resented it strongly. He punched his left fist solidly into the offending red mech's side and slammed his right fist into the golden mech's helm. He had no tolerance for _afts_ who thought they could get away with targeting his wings.

The golden mech slammed his palm into Prowl's face, shoving him away, even as Prowl sidestepped to dodge the red mech's fist. It was like old times. Prowl had gone to a Praxian youngling school, but pre-university school had had a mix of different bots, some of whom weren't the most decent to Praxians. All had learned to not assault Prowl or his wings; the school had been lenient enough to let Prowl get away with his smack downs, and Prowl had triumphed.

Prowl struck the red mech firmly in the face with his fist and simultaneously slammed his pede into the golden mech's thigh. The red mech stumbled back a few steps and did not approach again. The golden mech favored his leg but glared at Prowl, clenching his fists.

Only a few seconds had elapsed since Prowl's first punch, but those seconds had been enough time for him to realize that his behavior was incorrect for this setting and situation.

He lowered his wings apologetically as he held his hands open, palms toward the golden mech, wrists crossed, calling for a cease-fire. His face heated as he realized that the Energon-hall was deathly silent and every single bot in the Energon-hall was staring at him and his assailants. He wanted to sink into the floor and disappear, go back to his quarters, go home to Praxus. He felt his wings trembling. He hadn't gotten into a fight in a _long_ time, and now he'd done it. Right in the middle of _everything_. He felt sick to his tank.

Then the sick feeling in his tank increased as he became aware of two faculty members moving toward his location with grim and even angry looks on their faces. Two security officers accompanied them with impassive faces. The Energon-hall was deathly silent except for their pede-falls until they reached Prowl and his assailants.

"You three," the more authoritative-looking faculty member said, his tone rife with warning. "Into the hallway, now," he ordered. His armor was a gleaming dark gray.

Prowl dipped his helm submissively and headed for the door. He heard the golden mech limping. He heard other pede-falls behind him and knew that the red mech and the four university staff were following.

The hallway was empty and silent. Prowl stood, waiting. He felt deeply mortified, but not _much_ afraid. He knew he deserved a reprimand for lashing out, and he expected one. He could handle a reprimand. He didn't enjoy them, but he could take them. Ironhide, his guardian, had spoken with him countless times about lashing out at other bots. And Ironhide had administered punishment, too, as he had seen fit.

At the thought of punishment, however, Prowl felt suddenly more unwell. A university wasn't going to use a strap on his aft the way Ironhide had. A university would suspend him. Or, worse, expel him.

He felt anguish flood his spark as he realized that he could get expelled.

He didn't want to get expelled. His spark was set on becoming an Enforcer, and this university had the best Enforcer program there was. If he got expelled- no! He couldn't think about that.

His wings trembled a little harder.

"Give me your names and Student ID numbers," the dark gray mech ordered, writing on a data-pad.

"Sunstreaker," the golden mech muttered. Prowl thought the name was vaguely familiar. "199… uhm… 74… 89… uhm… 65-3."

"Sideswipe," the red mech said unhappily. This name also seemed vaguely familiar. "199, 74, …9965… 4."

"Prowl, sir." Prowl spoke softly but clearly. "Student ID number: 195-25-3788-2." He noted that the security officers gave him a glance. One set of numbers in that string indentified him as being enrolled in the Enforcer program, and they knew it.

"Mm," the gray mech said, looking at Prowl thoughtfully. Then he looked at Sunstreaker and Sideswipe briefly. "The three of you will report to Room G204 immediately."

"Yes, sir," Prowl answered. He wanted to be a youngling again so he could cry. What was even in room G204?

"Escort them, please," the gray mech said to the femme security officer. She gave him a nod and then looked at the three young mechs.

"This way," she directed, and Prowl fell into step after her. She walked with a firm steady pace but kept it slow enough that it wouldn't tax the limping Sunstreaker.

Feeling unable to handle the stress alone any more, Prowl opened his intercom line to Jazz.

::Jazzy…::

::Hey, Prowler! I finished talkin' wi' the prof an' it's all cool now. I'm headin' t' the eat-zone. What's up?::

::I punched two mechs.::

::Slaggit, Prowl, that ain't how ya make friends.::

::Jazz, this is serious. They slammed into my wings on purpose, an' I hit back. A security officer is now escorting us to room G204. I need you to find out who occupies room G204 an' what they do.::

::Okay. I'll ask around. Prowl?::

::Yes?::

::That _ain't_ how ya make friends.::

::I'm na worried about making friends right now; I'm worried about getting expelled!::

::Prowl, Prowl, Prowl. They _ain't_ gonna expel ya. Ya ha' the most perfect school résumé ever; perfect grades, stellar extracurricular activities, an' outstandin' performance in everythin'. Plus, ya got the backin' of three prestigious Golden Elite Iacon University Alumni _an'_ a reference letter from the Authority of Praxus. An' ya' funded by the university's sixth favorite donor. They might slap ya wrists, but they won' expel ya. Not if they got half a processor. Plus, Kaon Uni would snag ya in a sec if Golden Elite dropped ya, an' Golden wouldn' want that.::

Prowl mulled this over, and the sick feeling began to ease.

::Prowler?::

::Jazz. Yes. Thank-you for reminding me of this. You are right. They would na expel me.::

::Ya welcome, m'brother. An' plus ya were only reactin' t' an assault from two other students; ya were doin' self-defense.::

::True. But, I should have stayed calm an' na started a fight.::

::There is that. Okay, Room G204. Occupant of G204 has an Enforcer license an' degrees in psychology, might _possibly_ be an empathic, an' her job is t' deal wi' problem students an' give guidance t' all. An' her name' Cyan.::

Prowl halfway sighed with a slight sense of relief. ::I've actually spoken wi' her before. She was on the review board for my application an' was one of my interviewers.::

::That went good, right?::

::I received positive feedback from her.::

::So, good. An' ya ain't gonna get expelled anyway, so jus' keep calm an' think 'bout what ya gonna say. Okay?::

::Okay. Thank-you. I will. Bye for now.:: Prowl closed the comm. as they approached the door that said G200-G210.

The security officer opened the door and entered the reception area, holding the door for the three mechs behind her. The receptionist, a light blue femme, looked up.

"May I help you?" she said.

"Room G204," the security officer said, tilting her helm in the direction that Prowl knew must be Room G204.

"I'll let her know," the receptionist femme said.

"Thank-you," the security officer said. Then she looked to the mechs, and Prowl was the only one who made optic-contact with her. "I will leave you. You will wait in the next room –through that door- until you are called. G204 is through the next door after that."

Prowl dipped his helm to her. "Thank-you, ma'am."

He went into the waiting room, holding the door for the other two mechs, and then sat on a bench facing the door to Room G204. The other two mechs hesitated and then sat on a bench perpendicular to Prowl's bench. A purple femme was sitting, shoulders hunched, on the bench opposite the two mechs; she glanced at them and said nothing before looking back down at her data-pad.

Prowl, without looking directly at the two mech, noted that they sat right next to each other. Sideswipe seemed to repress a shudder, and then he doubled over to hide his face in his hands. Sunstreaker put a comforting arm around him. Prowl shifted his optics away from the mechs because he knew he wouldn't want some bot staring at him and Jazz if Jazz were upset, but he didn't tune down his audios.

"Sh-sh," Sunstreaker hushed as a muffled sob came from Sideswipe's vocs.

"What're they gonna do to us?" Sideswipe sobbed in a whisper.

"Shush," Sunstreaker whispered back. "I don't care. It's a snotty place anyway. I'll be glad to leave, and we'll be fine."

Sideswipe sniffled miserably like a youngling. "But, the art…"

Prowl looked over. Art. They were in his art history class. _That_ was why their names were familiar. He'd heard them during attendance call.

"I said we'll be fine. No worse than before. Now shut it." Sunstreaker glanced suspiciously over at Prowl and glared at him when their optics met.

Prowl moved his optics from the mechs and focused on the floor. He felt slightly better now, knowing that he wasn't the only one who felt like crying over the incident. It wasn't that long ago that all of them had been in their youngling frames. Sideswipe was probably a very new upgrade, hardly more than a youngling. Prowl's stress level rose as at he considered this. He had a big problem with anybody hitting younger bots. And now he'd done it. He felt horrible. True, they had asked for it, but he shouldn't have answered.

::Ya okay, Prowler?:: Jazz asked over his comm., and Prowl realized that he'd let some of his stress flow over their brother bond.

::I'm just really upset. I'm in the waiting room. Can you ask around about Sideswipe an'-or Sunstreaker? Those are the two mechs I hit. I feel like… I feel like I should know about them before we go into this… thing.::

::No problem. I'll get back t' ya soon's.::

::Thank-you.::

Prowl kept his optics on his hands, but he wondered about the two mechs and what Jazz would find out about them. Certainly now that they had caused a scene, everyone would be talking about them. And Jazz was adroit when it came to snapping up tidbits of information and getting bots to talk to him.

Before long, Jazz was on Prowl's intercom again.

::Prowler,::

::Yes?::

::They' brothers. Twins, actually. Orphaned as sparklin's –like us. Not like us, though, they were shuffled 'round a lot. Sunstreaker's in the art program, an' he got _amazin'_ art talent. His work is beautiful, an' I mean it. Ain't nobody know why Sideswipe is here. Bots in the hallways are saying they'd be surprised if the twins were allowed t' stay. This is thei' first half-cycle here, an' they ain't got powerful connections. Jus' one sponsor, some art-collector.::

::You feel bad for them?:: Prowl asked. He felt bad for them.

::Well, yeah. They' orphans, like us, Prowl. Only they ain't been lucky wi' havin' a home like ours.::

::They belligerently targeted me for being a Praxian, though. That was wrong of them.:: He felt conflicted.

::I hear ya, Prowler.:: Jazz's response held a reluctance in it. ::I'll chat later. Lemme know how the thing goes.::

::I will,:: Prowl replied. Then Jazz closed the comm..

Prowl studied his lightly clasped hands. The twins should be punished for targeting him. –simply because it was an act of racism, not because he had personally been offended.

Was getting expelled from the university too harsh a punishment for that, though? Prowl's brow furrowed slightly as he considered this. But were they going to get expelled? Jazz said everyone thought they would. And who better to know than the established student body.

The femme choked back a sniffle, and Prowl glanced over at her uncertainly and saw that her fingers were clenched tightly around her data-pad. She was clearly suffering and miserable, and that knowledge made Prowl's gentle spark ache. Part of why he was so set on becoming an Enforcer was so that he could work against things that made bots miserable.

"Femme," he said softly. "Is there something-"

"Just leave me alone," she said roughly.

"Hey," Sunstreaker said gently. The femme gave him an angry look, but he didn't back down. After patting his brother's back once more, Sunstreaker got up and approached the femme with a nonthreatening demeanor. "What's the matter?" he asked kindly, seating himself on the femme's bench without encroaching on her personal space.

"None of _your_ business _either_," she choked out, seeming almost enraged at his interference.

"Hey, sorry," he said gently. "I'm not up to anythin'. I just don't like seein' other bots upset. If there's a problem, I like to help out."

"Well," she said tightly. "If you can get me expelled, that would be _great._ I did not _ask_ to come here!"

"Creators set you up for the grand education?" Sunstreaker guessed.

"Yes," she said darkly. "Nevermind what _I_ want to do." She brushed a teardrop away angrily.

"Is it that hard to get expelled?" Sunstreaker asked.

The femme's shoulders shrugged unhappily. "I… I am _so_ hardwired to do things perfectly that I cannot bring myself to do anything drastic, and the guilt drives me to attend class and do all my assignments. I keep trying to display a bad attitude, but the school appreciates my creators so much that it overlooks my small misbehaviors. I don't have the courage or gears to outright…" she broke off and pressed her hands to her optics. "This must sound so stupid."

"It makes perfect sense," Prowl said gently. It didn't sound stupid to him in the least.

Sunstreaker glared at him for interfering and then turned back to the femme. "I know what you mean," he told her, his tone gentle. "You have a moral code in you that you can't break, but you're miserable and mad about not havin' any choice in your life."

She nodded, giving him a look of slight awe. Prowl realized that she'd probably had few bots ever listen to her before. A slight half-smile touch her lips.

Sunstreaker smiled back at her. "What do you really want to do instead of be here?"

She looked down, clearly hesitant about sharing with a stranger.

"I'm an artist," Sunstreaker confided. "I paint. Do sculptures. That's why I'm here. To get an education in art."

Prowl looked at Sunstreaker thoughtfully. It was no wonder, then, that the mech was in his art history class.

"I really want to tour our planet," the femme said softly. "Explore it, get to know it and its inhabitants. I have never gotten to go anywhere or do anything that was not carefully monitored by my creators or was beneath my social class. And I _know_ there is so much more to Cybertron that this elite lifestyle that I… that I am _trapped_ in."

"So you want to get expelled an' run away?" Prowl asked, frowning slightly. She needed to do something against her misery, but what she had proposed –getting expelled- was _not_ a sound plan of action.

Sunstreaker glared at him. "Leave her alone. It's her life. She should be allowed to live it how she wants."

"I agree that she should be allowed to live how she wants," Prowl said soothingly. "But I think that she has valuable assets that she can exploit, an' I do na think she has taken them into full consideration."

The femme sighed wearily. "I have taken into full consideration the fact that my creators are dead set on giving me the finest education in political rhetoric so I can make a _fantastic_ bond with a powerful politician after I graduate. They picked out what classes I took last cycle, and they picked them again _this_ cycle. I have no freedom."

Prowl shifted a wing as his tactical core began to assess this information and pull other information from his knowledge-core. "Are you legally an adult?"

"I will be next planetary cycle," she muttered. "Not that it will make much difference."

"Talking to your creators has na worked at all?"

"Not at all. Ever. You can't even begin to understand."

Prowl's optics narrowed slightly as he ran several possible courses of action through his processor. Then he. "I have an idea," he told the femme.

"Everybody does," she said, but she didn't glare at him.

"Since your creators will not listen, you will have to employ subterfuge,"

"D'who?" Sunstreaker stared at him in disbelief.

"She will have to do something underhandedly," Prowl clarified for him.

Sunny glared at him, looking irritated about the Praxian's vocabulary. "Go on."

Prowl turned his focus to the femme. "Your best option is to drop the classes that your creators picked, an' then add the classes that _you_ would like to take. You will be notified of your class change, but they will na because of the SPCP –the Student Privacy an' Confidentiality Policy."

"They'll find out when they gave me the inquisition when I go home for break," the femme objected slowly, but she seemed willing to listen.

"Then do na go home for break. Stay wi' a friend you can trust, or stay here wi' some excuse that you can prove. –I can formulate one for you if you like. Then, next cycle, once they've picked your classes again, do the same thing again. Then, once your creators have paid for your final two cycles an' made their donations, then you can _officially_ change your major to one of your choosing. An' they will na be able to do anything against you because they will have already made the deal wi' the school, an' you will be a legal adult an' na be required to submit to their requests that you follow a particular line of study. Then, once you graduate, you can go do as you please."

The femme stared at him, her mouth slightly open in awe.

"What is your line of study?" she asked.

"Tactician an' Enforcer," he replied, and Sunstreaker gave him a glance.

The femme halfway smiled and then looked back at Sunstreaker thoughtfully.

"I hate to agree with a mech who punched my brother in the face," Sunstreaker said. "But that sounds like a good idea if you want to get an education before you run away."

"An' there _would_ be a search for you if you just ran away at your current age," Prowl added.

The femme groaned softly. "I can imagine. Okay," she said, looking more positive. "So, stay here, but do the classes I want. I think I can do that."

Prowl nodded. "An' if you're interested in touring the planet, you might take a degree in journalism, or sociology, history, commerce, exports/imports, mm… actually, a great many degrees are compatible wi' travelling our planet."

The femme considered this. "You're right." She smiled at him. "Thank-you. I really mean it."

"You're welcome," Prowl said sincerely.

"Thank-you, too," she said to Sunstreaker.

"No problem," he said, giving her a smile.

Then the door for G204 opened, and a dark green mech walked out with a look of relief.

"Next," he said, heading out the door.

The femme looked to Prowl first, but her optics rested on Sunstreaker a moment longer. Then she smiled at them before going into G204.

She closed the door, and Prowl was alone with the twins.

Prowl wrapped himself up in thought and considered a number of things very carefully. Reflecting on Sunstreaker's concern and kind actions toward the femme, he surmised that Sunstreaker clearly wasn't a truly bad individual. And while the mechs were twins, Sideswipe was clearly younger emotionally and mentally, the more vulnerable of the two; he was more visibly upset about the Energon-hall incident than Sunstreaker was. And Prowl felt sympathy for them because they had been orphaned and not gotten to settle in a home with a loving caretaker like he and Jazz had with Ironhide.

They probably had some resentments and unsettled issues that made them angry and aggressive. Insecure bots usually were the ones who had targeted him as a youngling.

Enforcers were concerned with justice, but they were equally concerned with the well-being of the community, and communities were made up of individual bots. …bots including the likes of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe deserved to be punished for targeting a Praxian because of his race. But not expelled.

Prowl thought a few more thoughts, and then the door opened and the purple femme came out.

"How'd it go?" Sunstreaker asked her.

"I am still enrolled," she said, smiling up at him a bit shyly. "I am going to do his plan." She tilted her helm toward Prowl. "I am on my way to reschedule classes now."

"I'm in Art History, section 6, if you're interested," Sunstreaker said. "He is, too. There are still some empty seats."

"We shall see," she said softly, touching his arm. "And if I do not see you around here, maybe we will meet again when I am travelling."

Sunstreaker paused. Prowl knew what the femme was implying: Sunstreaker wasn't going to remain at the university. He saw a moment later that Sunstreaker realized it as well.

The gold mech's optics darkened minutely, but his expression toward the femme remained gentle. "Well, take care of yourself," he said. "Stand up for yourself, too. And hunt Sir Tactician down if you need any help with it." He shrugged a shoulder in Prowl's direction.

"I will," she said, her tone a touch wistful. "Well, bye…" she hesitated, coaxing for his name.

"Sunstreaker," he said.

"Bye, Sunstreaker," she said. She hesitated. Then she looked to Prowl. "Thank-you again."

Prowl nodded. "See you later?"

Her optics dropped. "Yes," she murmured. Then she hurried away.

Prowl watched her go and then he looked at Sunstreaker. The femme's words and actions had made it clear that she was certain that Prowl wouldn't get expelled and that the twins probably wouldn't be there another day. Sunstreaker looked unhappy.

Prowl's optics narrowed. "Let me do the talking," he said.

Sunstreaker whirled toward him with open hostility. "So what? So you can fix everythin' up for yourself even better? You're already the pet of-"

"Trust me," Prowl said quietly but sharply. "I do na want you twins to get expelled. Follow my lead."

"Who told you we were twins?"

The door opened, halting all movement and conversation in the waiting room. A blue and white femme looked out, Cyan herself. "Next, please," she said firmly. She paused with half-recognition on seeing Prowl rise. "You…?"

"I am Prowl, ma'am. You gave me a favorable review after your interview wi' me."

A look of pleasant recognition lit her optics as she smiled. "I recall now. You have plans to become an Enforcer. Come in," she welcomed him.

Prowl glanced back at the twins, who were now standing. "I am wi' Sunstreaker an' Sideswipe," he said.

Her smile fell as she looked at her data-pad. "_Oh,_" she said, and Prowl had no doubt that the data-pad held the report of the Energon-hall incident. "This is… a surprise," she said carefully.

"An unpleasant one, ma'am; I am sorry," Prowl said softly, dipping his wings.

Her optics rested on Prowl a moment, thoughtfully. "Everyone into my office, please," she said, her optics moving with gentle concern to the twins. She stepped away from the doorway, disappearing back into her office with a slight limp.

Prowl stood a moment more because Sunstreaker was barring his way, optics dark and aggravated, but then the golden mech stepped aside to let him go first. Prowl went; the twins followed.

Sunstreaker closed the door, and Cyan, already seated at her immaculate desk, motioned the mechs to some chairs. They had no choice but to sit. Still holding her data-pad, she looked over the mechs equally. Prowl noticed this in an instant. He had noticed that the other faculty and employees had regarded him with more deference than they had the twins, and it had bothered him. Cyan was being fair, and Prowl found it reassuring.

"Brawling is considered a _very_ serious offence at Golden Elite," she told them. An Enforcer's license rested on a shelf behind her. Medals of Honor sat beside it.

Neither Prowl nor the twins were unable to say anything.

"Most bots would be expelled immediately. But, because all of you are new and each of your reports say that you have great potential, we are going to look into the incident and consider taking steps less severe."

Prowl dipped his helm slightly in acknowledgement and wondered what Sideswipe had potential in.

"Tell me what happened," Cyan said.

Sunstreaker halfway glanced toward Prowl and kept his mouth shut.

"The incident was my fault," Prowl said, keeping his optics on Cyan. "I was preoccupied an' na paying attention to the bots around me. When these two bots an' I ran into each other, I was out of focus an' made an assumption regarding what had happened. Having come from a somewhat rough pre-university school, I was used to bots targeting me as a Praxian; therefore, without stopping to think, I assumed that these two mechs had intentionally rammed into me. I lashed out at them reflexively. Once I hit them, they naturally tried to defend themselves an' struck back. I came to my senses within a few moments an' settled down, an' these mechs stood down once they saw that I was na longer hostile toward them."

Cyan peered at her data-pad and then looked to Sideswipe. "Would you say that that is what happened?"

Prowl was glad to see that she was going to listen all of them; the twins just needed to cooperate with him. Logic said they would. –Unless they _wanted_ to face disciplinary action.

"We ran into him, and he punched us," Sides said softly.

"Did you intentionally ram into Prowl?"

He shook his helm slightly with a look of grave doubt and lowered optics.

"What if I suspected that you _had_ rammed into him intentionally? What would you say then?"

Tears filled Sideswipes optics as he struggled to come up with an answer. "I d-don't know…" He put his helm into his hands. Sunstreaker, sitting next to him, wrapped his arms around his brother.

"He's been sick," Sunstreaker said, sounding almost angry. "Check the medical stuff. His helm's hurtin' him, so leave him alone." He was trembling. He ducked his helm to hide the pure rage and hatred in his optics, but Prowl caught a glimpse of it.

Cyan took a soft small cloth from a dispenser and rose to hand it over the desk to the twins. "Sunstreaker," she said gently to get his attention.

Sunstreaker glanced at her and then took the cloth, slipping it into his brother's hands.

"Ma'am, if I may," Prowl said softly, the feeling of unease firmly resident in his core again.

"What would you say?" she asked.

"Sunstreaker is an artist. It's his passion. _This_ university has the verra finest art programs in all Cybertron. He would have to be an absolute idiot to even consider taking an action that might get him expelled. An' it is clear that he an' his brother are verra dear to each other; I canna imagine that his brother would do something wi' him to help him get expelled."

Sideswiped sniffled softly.

"Sunstreaker?" Cyan asked. "What do you say to this?"

Sunstreaker sent a hard gust of air through his system. "This university _is_ a huge chance for me and Sides to have a better life. I _would_ have to be an idiot, as Prowl said, to do anythin' that might get us kicked out." He paused. "But… me and Sides _did_ intentionally ram into Prowl."

Prowl gasped softly, shocked. He felt sick to his tank now. If Cyan gathered that he'd been twisting the truth, he could get into more trouble. Also, why would Sunstreaker go against him when he'd set things up neatly for him?

"Why did you do that, Sunstreaker?" Cyan asked gently, her expression betraying nothing.

"We didn't know that it would cause a fight. We thought he'd squawk and then we'd apologize and move on. We don't have any hatred for Praxians. We just wanted to hurt someone."

Cyan made a small note of her data-pad. "And why did you want to hurt someone?"

Sunstreaker looked uncertain. "I… I don't know. I was feelin' angry about… different sorts of things. It just feels good to hurt when I'm angry."

"Were you feeling hurt? Angry about having been hurt?"

Sunstreaker paused. Prowl gathered that the golden mech hadn't thought about it that way before.

"That makes sense, Sunny," Sides said softly, his voice muffled. "I know I was feelin' hurt."

Sunny held him closer and rubbed his shoulder. "Yeah. Yes, ma'am. That makes sense."

"Prowl," Cyan said.

"Yes, ma'am?" He spoke steadily, belying the churning of his tank.

"In light of Sunstreaker's confession, are you going to press charges?"

"Na, ma'am. I am na going to press charges."

Cyan looked back to Sunny and Sides. "Alright, you two. Because you have such a high potential rating-s, we are not going to expel you. However, you _are_ going to be suspended for two weeks, during which both of you will report to me daily for half an hour. Once the two weeks are done, you may return classes as usual and will be required to do the extra work to make up for what you missed in class. Understood?"

Sunny said nothing, and Prowl cautiously peeked sideways. The golden twin's jaw was clenched harshly, his helm lowered to hide the resentment in his optics from Cyan.

"Understood, ma'am," Sides said softly, hesitatingly. "Sunny?" He sounded almost afraid.

Sunny glanced up at Cyan. "Yes, ma'am," he said tensely.

"Would you like to discuss this further? -in private?" Cyan offered, her tone open and kind.

"No, ma'am," Sunny said quietly.

Cyan paused, seeming to consider him for a couple moments. "Alright. I will send you my comm. code, and you can contact me if you change your mind. You two may go now," she said. "I will contact you a little later today to set up our appointments."

"Thanks…" Sunny murmured. "I mean, thank-you, ma'am," he amended. Then he got to his pedes and pulled his brother up.

"Do you need our medical facilities?" Cyan asked Sides.

"No, ma'am," Sides said softly. "Just some quiet time." He nudged away from his brother and went to open the door. "C'mon, Sunny?"

Prowl watched the twins go, meeting Sunny's optics for a moment as the twin glanced back at him. Prowl felt no hostility from the twin, only half-veiled curiosity and reluctant gratitude. Then the twins were gone, leaving the door open behind themselves.

"Close the door, please," Cyan said to Prowl.

Prowl did as bidden and then returned to his chair, dipping his wings and lowering his optics. He knew he wouldn't be get expelled, but the thought of getting suspended was horrifyingly humiliating. And, looking back now, he had behaved worse than the twins had. He'd punched two mechs in the Energon-hall when he should have remained calm. And, attempting to deceive a guidance counselor was probably worse than punching a couple mechs in the Energon-hall. More than once during Prowl's youngling days, Ironhide had warned him against twisting the truth and turned him over his knee for swats. It hadn't happened often; Prowl had generally been an honest youngling. Prowl didn't want to start thinking about how many times Ironhide had chided, rebuked, or lectured him on keeping his temper, though. And his temper had gotten his after-plating warmed by Ironhide's hand or a strap more times than he liked to recall.

He realized that he'd been thinking deeply and stopped. He looked to Cyan, his optics uncertain, and he found her looking at him with a contemplative expression on her face.

"You will not be expelled for this incident," she said, regarding him with a touch of curiosity. "Nor will you face disciplinary measures. You will simply receive a written warning against reacting with violence toward other members of your community."

"Thank-you," Prowl said, dipping helm as a gesture of thanks as well as a way to hide the immense relief that he felt.

"I want to know, though," she paused, allowing Prowl to become uneasy again.

His wings shifted, betraying his unease.

"I want to know why you tried to take responsibility for the incident, why you tried to convince me that the brothers were innocent, and why you thought you could succeed at this deception."

Prowl swallowed. The sick feeling was back in his tank again. And he felt a painful tightness twisting into his shoulder struts as his wings tensed up.

"I simply want to know what you were thinking because it was a rather unusual course of action," Cyan explained. "I am not going to report your attempted deception to the university because I sense that you will not attempt it again."

"Na, ma'am; I will na do such a thing again," Prowl said. He felt his frame and face heat in humiliation. "It was an isolated incident for me," he softly and miserably. "I have na been deceitful since I was a youngling."

"Did you know the brothers beforehand?" Cyan asked.

"Na, ma'am," Prowl said softly, his cheeks still burning. "I had na even realized that they were in one of my classes until I had my friend check for me."

"Alright. Now continue," Cyan encouraged gently.

"I… I tried to convince you that the twins were innocent because I didna want them to get expelled. A-at first, I wanted the twins punished for targeting me simply for my race, but then I felt sympathy for them because Jazz -my friend- told me that they'd been orphaned, just like Jazz an' I had. Only Jazz an' I had a good home, an' the twins didn't. An' while we were sitting out in your waiting room, Sunstreaker spoke kindly to the purple femme who was here before us. He saw that she was upset, an' he reached out to see if he could help her. It was an act of kindness I could na disregard, an' I decided that they were na such bad mechs."

Cyan nodded her understanding. "Go on."

"I took –_tried_ to take- responsibility for the incident because I knew that whatever punishment would come would be more lenient for me an' less lenient on the twins, an' –as I said before- I didna want them to get expelled. An' I had thought they would be expelled. Jazz said the bots in the halls were certain of it."

Cyan smiled at that and then cocked her helm. "How did you… come to the conclusion that you would receive lighter punishment?"

Prowl's cheeks heated some more in further embarrassment, and he ducked his helm. "I… I have some of the verra, verra best sponsors an' alumns backing me wi' verra generous donations an' exceptional letters of recommendation. I do na mean to brag," he said abashedly. "But, na school would even consider turning me away. I had my pick of universities. An' Kaon Central Elite University is _still_ trying to convince me to enroll wi' them."

"I see now." Cyan's tone held a note of gentle amusement as well as understanding. "You knew that Golden Elite wouldn't dare expel you."

"Yes, ma'am." Prowl nodded.

"Very well. Now tell me why you thought you would succeed in deceiving me?"

Prowl had felt that his cheeks could not burn any hotter, but now they did, almost stinging. "It never occurred to me that I would na succeed in convincing you," he said softly, starting to feel a choked up feeling in his throat. "I told exactly what happened physically; there was na lie there, so whatever report you held would agree wi' what I said. I lied about my perspective on the incident to t-twist your view of it. An'… I… I thought that twins would back me. It… was presumptuous."

"Mm."

He felt tears of humiliation crowding into his optics. Having to give this detailed explanation of his misdeeds to a bot whom he'd only met once but already looked up to as a role-model was worse punishment than getting strapped by Ironhide. He would have gladly opted for the strap at this juncture if it had meant getting out of Cyan's office.

"Prowl," Cyan said gently.

"Yes, ma'am?" He couldn't bring himself to meet her optics. Especially not with tears in his own.

"I believe this has been sufficient punishment for you,"

Prowl looked up at her suddenly, a little surprised. She smiled on him, and relief flooded his system. He ducked his helm to keep her from seeing him blink back his tears.

"_Yes_, ma'am," he said. He felt his wings shake with relief. It _had_ been punishment. He ran a soft gust of air through his system to cool it. "Thank-you," he said softly. She hadn't been questioning him simply for her curiosity's sake but for his sake. The discomfort he'd gone through had cleared away his guilt. "An' I do mean _thank_-you."

"I know," Cyan said, optics gentle, almost enigmatic, as she smiled. "You have a more sensitive spark than most," she said kindly. "And I am glad to see it."

He shifted and then settled his wings; the tension was gone. His optics were damp, but he hoped it wasn't noticeable. He blinked at the tears.

"You meant well for the brothers," Cyan said, taking a small cloth from the dispenser on her desk and handing it smoothly to him as she had to Sunny.

Prowl hesitated with the cloth in his hands, as if using it would acknowledge his tears, but then he realized she had to accustomed to having students tear up –if not cry or bawl- in her office. She was, at least, prepared to deal with it. He gave the femme a shy smile of thanks and then ducked him helm to wipe his optics.

"In trying to help the brothers in the way that you did," she said. "You lacked discretion, but you had the right goal. And I appreciate your intent. Well-being for all _is_ one of an Enforcer's goals."

Prowl nodded solemnly. He knew. He'd been studying about the Enforcers on his own since younglinghood, poring over every data-pad he had been able to borrow from the library.

"You are quite set on becoming an Enforcer, aren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am." He nodded firmly. He dropped the cloth into the nearby recycle bin.

Cyan watched him, her optics thoughtful. "You are very young yet," she said. "And have much to learn. But, from what I have seen of you –both on data-pad and in person- I believe that you will have your own Enforcer's license in the allotted planetary cycles. You have the dedication and the processor for it. And you have a sense of sympathy that we don't see often enough in most of our Enforcer applicants. We will instruct you in your options of right action and teach you how to take the right actions to achieve the right goals. I think you will do well."

"Thank-you, ma'am," Prowl said, encouraged and touched by this praise.

Cyan smiled back at him. "Is there anything you wish to discuss further before I send you on your way?"

Prowl hesitated and shifted a wing. "I… well, I understand if you do na wish to tell me. But… I am curious to know… how did you know or suspect that I was na being honest?"

Cyan chuckled softly. "The brothers gave you such a glance of shock that I couldn't help see that something was up. And your words were too carefully chosen; you highlighted the incident for me to 'read' in such a specific way that I could not help but see that you were trying to throw me off."

"_Oh_…" Prowl's wings flicked in amazement. He ducked his helm in further embarrassment as he realized that that second reason had to be the same reason why Ironhide had always caught him. Then he blushed at himself for getting caught as an adult for the same reason he'd gotten caught as a sparkling. "It's verra obvious now that you've pointed it out to me," he said drily.

"Well, I've been around a lot longer than you have." Cyan's amusement was gentle and guardian-like.

"An' you have an Enforcer's license," Prowl said, admiration in his tone.

"Yes, I do," she said softly. "And much experience to go with it."

Prowl dipped his helm courteously. "Thank-you for speaking wi' me," he said as he shifted his weight to the edge of his chair.

"You're welcome. I would like to talk with you again sometime. -preferably _not_ because of an incident."

"As would I," Prowl said sincerely. Then he got to his pedes. He could learn much from Cyan; she would be a good mentor. "Good day, ma'am."

"Good day, Prowl," she replied.

Prowl left room G204, walked past the bored mech in the waiting room, nodded to the receptionist in the next room, and then went out into the hallway.

The twins were in the hallway, leaning against the walls, arms crossed, waiting for him.

His wings shifted uneasily, but he looked to their optics with openness and calmness.

"Did you get off entirely?" Sunny asked, his tone begrudging.

"I did," Prowl said, wings flicking downwards in apology.

"It figures." Sunny shrugged, shifting away from the wall to leave.

Prowl took a step after him. "I will share my notes from Art History class wi' you, if you wish. It is a small reparation I can make for punching you two an' adding to the incident that got you suspended."

"You'll share you notes with us?" Sides asked softly, sounding almost intrigued.

Prowl nodded.

"We harassed you, though," Sunny pointed out, his expression suspicious.

"As was clarified, you did it because you were angry about other things," Prowl explained gently. "You were seeking an outlet, an' I made a good target because of my wings."

"So…" Sides said slowly, uncertainly. "So, are you perhaps sayin' you… you forgive us?"

Prowl nodded. "I do forgive you, an' I also apologize."

"Okay." Sides perked up, clearly happy to be forgiven. "We didn't get kicked off the campus, so we'll be stayin' in our quarters. Y95-6,"

"Hey!" Sunny objected. "You don't just tell some mech where we live."

"My quarters are A20-3," Prowl said. "You can come by any time you wish. I might be in class, or my room-mate might be there instead, but I'll let him know you might come."

Sunny eyed him. "Why are you doin' this?"

Prowl eyed him back. "Do you have any friends on this campus besides your brother an' that purple femme you just met?"

Sunny glanced at Sides, unwilling to tell the truth but also unwilling to lie.

"Nope," Sides said openly.

"Na do I have any friends except my room-mate."

"Funny way to make friends," Sunny remarked. "Punchin' us like that."

"I wasna planning on making friends wi you," Prowl said. "I… my friend said you two were orphaned. We were orphaned as well. I…" he shifted his wings.

"You feel a kinship with us because of that?" Sides asked, optics widening in wonder.

"He doesn't," Sunny stated.

"I do," Prowl insisted.

"You can be friends with us," Sides said, hugging Prowl affectionately. Prowl put his arms gently around the younger mech as he would little Bumblebee.

Sunny huffed. "Sideswipe. Seriously, you don't-"

"Sunny," Sides said, still hugging Prowl. "He hugged back."

Sunny glared at Prowl. "He _just_ got off some wacky meds from the Medical Center," he said, his tone defensive and almost angry.

Prowl smiled gently back. "It's alright," he reassured Sunny. Then he patted the red mech's shoulder kindly and let him go. "I will see you two later. I must go to our art history class now."

"Yeah, Sir Ace-My-Quiz wouldn't wanna be late," Sunny said.

"Indeed na," Prowl said, touching the golden mech's shoulder lightly.

Sunny jerked away, optics narrowing. Prowl realized then that he shouldn't have touched him.

"I'm sorry." Prowl held his hands in a placating motion. "I was just going to say, 'I have friends to take notes for.'"

Sunny raised an optic-ridge in skepticism. "Well, go on then."

Prowl started down the hallway but stopped after a couple steps and turned back. "Come over for dinner," he said. "6:00. I'll give you my notes, an' you can meet my room-mate."

"Will you have high-grade?"

"Na. But I have a box of copper candy an' two boxes of Praxian crystal candy that I will share."

"We'll be there," Sides said.

Then Prowl had to hurry to art history class.

…

Prowl stepped out of art history class, and Jazz grabbed him by the arm. "What happened, Prowler?" he demanded with concern. "Why didn't ya comm. me after the thing?!"

Prowl touched Jazz's hand soothingly and then guided him to a quieter part of the hall. "I apologize for na intercomming, Jazzy. I forgot. The twins were waiting in the hall for me, an' I talked to them before hurrying to class. I was almost late."

"An' what happened?"

"I got off completely free. An' the twins did na get expeled. We're going to be friends now."

"How' they not get expelled?" Jazz asked, ignoring Prowl's statement about being friends with the mechs who had assaulted his precious wings.

"The councilor said it was because they had high potential ratings. They got a two-week suspension, but then they can come back. Let's go to our quarters, an' I'll tell you everything. An' then you _must_ clean up your messes because the twins are coming over for dinner."

Jazz looked taken aback. "Sweet crystals! Ya invited them t' dinner?"

"I said were going to be friends now, didna I?"

Jazz hugged Prowl, an immense grin on his face. "Ya ridiculous mech! I didn't believe ya! Really?"

"Really, truly, Jazz. Now, let's go."

…

The rich, spacious quarters that Prowl and Jazz shared on campus were immaculately clean by 5:30, and Prowl had laid out a nice array of food and Energon on two separate trays.

Jazz flopped on one of the couches, effectively squashing the plush pillows on it, and picked up Prowl's note data-pad. "Ya took even more thorough notes than last week," he said, chuckling with delight. "Is this word-fo'-word what the proff said?"

"It's na _quite_ verbatim," Prowl said, smiling back at Jazz as he settled on the other couch to study while he waited for the twins.

6:00 rolled around, and Prowl frowned.

"They are na here," he said, looking concerned.

"Ain't everyone punctual as ya, Prowler," Jazz said, tossing a pillow at him.

Prowl got up and went to the door; opening it, he stuck his helm out and looked around. He saw the twins a short distance away. Sunny was clearly dragging his pedes, but Sides seemed eager. Prowl waved to them. Sides waved back and then turned to say something to Sunny, tugging at his wrist.

"They're almost here," Prowl told Jazz as he plopped back down on his couch.

"Ya grinnin' like a sparklin'," Jazz noted with rather paternal pride.

A few minutes later, a knock sounded on the door, and Prowl bounced up to open it.

"Hello-!" he greeted the twins. "I'm glad you decided to come."

"We didn't realize how far it-" Sunny broke off and stared at the size and grandeur of the room.

"Slag," Sides said, optics wide with awe. He scampered in and looked around with amazement. "Wow!"

Prowl motioned the reluctant Sunny indoors and then shut the door behind him.

"_These_ are your quarters?" Sunny asked, still staring.

"Yeah," Jazz said. "But, we ain't fancy snobs," he declared, hopping off the couch and approaching the twins.

Sideswipe skittered shyly back to his brother, and Sunny looked almost mad. Prowl felt badly for the golden twin in particular; it had never occurred to him that his on-campus quarters would be so much nicer than theirs.

"Sides," he said kindly, putting a hand on Sideswipe's back. –He knew Sunny wouldn't appreciate being touched. "This is Jazz. Jazz, this Sideswipe. Sunstreaker, Jazz."

"Hiya, mechs," Jazz said cheerfully. "Welcome to the fancy suite."

Sunny looked back at the door. He clearly thought coming was a bad idea.

"Please, sit," Prowl said. "I have the art history class notes for you. I made copies for both of you."

Sides went over to the couches willingly but then stopped and looked uncertainly at Sunny as the gold twin approached the couches with caution.

"Oh, for mercy' sake," Jazz said, shaking his helm. "Do it like this." He scampered over and flopped onto a couch, sending a pillow flying. "Make it ya's."

"Are your quarters na nice?" Prowl asked the twins, picking up the tray of Energon cubes as Sunny remained standing and eyed Jazz with doubt.

"They're small," Sides said easily, cautiously lowering his aft onto the couch. "Well, they're bigger than where we used to live, but they're small compared to this."

Prowl set the tray on the low table.

"We can all go crowd int' Prowler's berth-room if that'll make ya feel better," Jazz offered playfully. "An' rifle through his data-pads an' candy boxes."

A hint of a shy but mischievous smile appeared on Sides' face, and that was enough encouragement for Jazz. The silver mech bounced off the couch. "C'mon!"

"Jazz-" Prowl objected as Jazz scampered toward Prowl's room. "Na, ya do na do tha!" he protested, running after Jazz as Jazz disappeared through a door. "Cae bac yh!"

Sunny halfway chuckled as Prowl's already accented Cy-Stan deteriorated into heavy Prax-Cy creole. Sides grinned delightedly.

"'ll-bey verra angry wi ya, Jazz, iya na staep! Ay!" There was the sound of a solid thump.

The twins looked at each other. Then Sunny halfway chuckled and Sides started laughing with delight at the realization that Jazz and Prowl were no different than they were when it came to harmless fights.

"Need help?" Sides called, moving off the couch.

"Ya bet!" Jazz sang back. "Mech-lin', is he mad now!"

"Ge off meh!" Prowl's voice was muffled.

Optics twinkling, Sides hurried with Sunny as shadow to the scene of the uproar and found Jazz atop a writhing blanket on the floor in a berth-room.

"Twins! Hel' meh!" Prowl called from beneath the blanket.

"Naw," Sunny said, suddenly half-smiling. "This is fun."

Jazz grinned up at him.

"Ya'll na ge ya art hist'ry notes s' long's I' don 'ere!" Prowl threatened Sunny while futilely trying to overthrow Jazz.

"It's okay," Sunny said, actually grinning as he climbed onto Prowl's berth and sprawled comfortably on his belly to watch the tussle over the side of the berth.

Sides sat down on Prowl's pedes and grinned at Jazz. "So, Jazz, how long have you known him?"

"Been his bestie since we were lil sparklin's," Jazz said cheerfully. He tried to tuck a corner of the blanket under Prowl's shoulder, but Prowl was squirming far too much for that to be work. "He hit me the first day, too."

"An' he pushed meh," Prowl said, getting his helm out from under the blanket.

Jazz flicked the blanket back over Prowl's helm. "An' then he took m' candy away from me."

"L'cause ya _stole_ tha' candy fro' th' cand'shop!" Prowl protested.

"An' _then_ we sorted things out an' got t' be friends. Yow!" Jazz jumped off the blanket. "Don' bite meh!"

Then the pedes that Sides was sitting on were jerked out from under him, and Prowl flipped the blanket over Sides' helm.

"Aigh!" Sides yelped, startled at first, but then he laughed shyly.

"Ain't no way to treat ya guests," Jazz declared, chuckling even as he whisked the blanket off Sides' helm and thwacked Prowl with it.

"Ow," Prowl said, optics twinkling. "Okay. M'pologies, Sides. Do ya want dinner?"

Sides nodded eagerly as Prowl gave him a hand up.

"I'll go fetch the Energon tray," Jazz said, scampering to the door.

"Get the tray of solid food, too, while ya' at it," Prowl called after him. "I'm na lettin' these delinquents out of my sight."

Sides sat down on Prowl's berth and cuddled up against his reclining brother. "So we're the delinquents?" he teased. "Weren't you the one who tried lyin' to the guidance counselor?"

Prowl's cheeks warmed. "She saw right through it," he said, sitting at the head of his berth. "I'm na a verra good liar."

"We've known _that_ fo' ages," Jazz said, coming back into the room with the two trays carefully balanced on his hands.

"Oh?" said Sunny.

"We always got caught whenever he tried t' fib fo' us," Jazz said, handing the trays to Sides and Prowl. "Caught _an'_ smacked. An' ya ain't been smacked good until Ironhide has smacked ya."

"Ironhide? From Praxus?" Sunny said, optics widening. He sat up. "Big black mech?"

"Uh-huh!" Jazz picked out some alloy crunchies to munch. "Hearda him?"

"He's one of the best small-time armor-makers!" Sunny exclaimed, showing the most enthusiasm that Prowl had ever seen in him so far. "I've seen his work at shows. Did he make you mechs's armor?"

"He did indeed," Prowl said, and Jazz held out his arm for Sunny to inspect.

"Oh, wow…!" Sunny was impressed. Sides looked at him with wonder as the golden twin touched Jazz's arm armor and pressed it lightly to feel its temper. Prowl wondered if Sides had never seen his brother touch another bot without hostility before.

After another moment, Sunny nudged Jazz's arm away with one finger.

"Can we go home with you on break?" Sides suddenly asked then, appalling his distrustful brother with such a request.

"Sideswipe! You don't-"

"Hey, relax," Jazz said happily. "It's cool."

"Of course," Prowl said, touched by the hope in Sides' tone. "I am sure Ironhide would welcome y-"

Sides tackled him with a hug.

"Sideswipe. Seriously." Sunny fairly radiated frustration. "You're not a sparklin'. You don't hug everybody who's nice to you."

"He hugged back," Sides said, snuggling.

"An' I always will," Prowl said sincerely. There was definitively a soft place in his spark now for the twins, and he couldn't deny it.

"Let's adopt him," Sides said to Sunny with sparkling-like eagerness. "And Jazz, too."

"Sideswipe. Seriously. You can't-"

"It's fine wi' me, Sunstreaker," Prowl told the golden mech sincerely. Something about these twins called to the guardian code in him. He wanted to look out for them and be there for them.

Sunny eyed him with doubt, the distrust plain in his optics. Prowl recognized that Sunny had been hurt by other bots before, and it made him feel even more strongly about wanting to look out for them.

He motioned to Jazz. "I let him adopt me," he said gently. "An' it's worked out fine so far. I'm willing to take another chance wi' you two."

Sunny eyed him. "You sure?"

"I'm sure," Prowl said firmly.

"Really?" Sunny asked, and Sides looked with earnest hopefulness at Prowl.

"Really, truly," Prowl said with deep sincerity.

Sunny looked like he might give in for a moment, but then he looked Prowl steadily in the optics. "_Honest_ly?" he asked, his word choice very deliberate.

"But, of course," Sides coaxed.

Prowl's face heated up in embarrassment. "Honestly-" he said softly, almost desperately. "I only twisted the truth because I did na want ya two ta get in trouble. An' I feel bad about th' whole thing."

Sunny hesitated, but then he shifted a shoulder and looked at Prowl with a look of reconsideration.

"Well, okay," he said slowly. Then he halfway smiled. "Alright. We'll adopt you," he decided. Then he grinned shyly and scooped up a pillow. "If only so we can pummel you," he added, optics twinkling.

"Oh, na," Prowl said, but he said it with a contented chuckle. He now had a Jazz _and_ a set of twins for his safe-keeping, and it was good.


End file.
